


Legends

by Valaks



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alex and Yassen Are Both Terrible Retirees, Flufftember, Friendly banter, Gen, Post Scorpia Rising, Pure Unfiltered Sass, Yassen Gregorovich Lives, Yassen is NOT Alex’s Knight in Shining Armor, mild crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaks/pseuds/Valaks
Summary: Being captured by the Russian Mob trying to use him as bait for a dead man was NOT Alex’s preferred way of starting the weekend. Alex Rider was no damsel in distress and Yassen Gregorovich, corpse, would not be his knight in shining armor. He would get out of this and when he did there would be hell to pay.OrThe beginnings of the Alex and Yassen Roadtrip Mission Fic that not a single person asked for
Relationships: Alex Rider & Yassen Gregorovich
Comments: 13
Kudos: 194





	Legends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mobilisinmobili](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/gifts).



Waking up half dressed tied to a chair should be more memborable for Alex but after a year working for MI6 he had grown used to it. A year of relative freedom had not made it any more novel.

The vicious slap that woke him, however, was  _ very _ memorable. He gingerly felt along his teeth and once satisfied that ther would be no more lasting damage he turned to face his assailant, spitting the blood at their shoes was a bit of a trademark of his, no sense in stopping that now. Fortunately, his aim was still fairly accurate if trending a little to the left. He hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to practice more. 

True to form it earned him another slap “Learn to respect your betters, Rider.”

“And who would that be, exactly?” Personally he had yet to find any. Everyone he had run into in situations like this seemed to be a bit of an asshole. 

“Sergei Mikhailov”

“Russian mob?” He really shouldn’t know that but working for MI6 even briefly had required at least a cursory research into the criminal underworld. Some names were well known Mikhailov made the list along with Hunt and a few others mob bosses. He wasn’t aware of doing anything to fuck with them while with MI6 unless they were close with Kurst maybe but that had been well over a year ago. “What do you want from me?” 

“From you, Rider?” The heavily accented voice asked with a laugh “Nothing, you are merely bait.”

“For who? MI6?” He shot his captor a world weary smile “You’ll be disappointed, I don’t work for them anymore. They won’t come for me.” He tried to keep the tone lighthearted but he couldn’t hide the grain of truth in it.

“Then you better hope that Gregorovich is more interested in you than your former handlers.”

His mind went numb “Gregorovich? Yassen? He’s dead. I saw him die 2 years ago.”

“You don’t have to cover for him, it won’t save him or you.”

“No. I watched him bleed out.” He insisted. 

“Oh, Rider child,” the man’s tone changed like he was talking to a particularly stupid kid “legends never die and Cossack is nothing if not a legend. He will come for you and when he does, we’ll be waiting.” The man patted him mockingly on the cheek before walking through the plastic curtains. The freezer door slammed shut behind him with finality. 

Alex breathed a sigh of relief and began to work on the tape that encircled his wrists in earnest. He may be out of the field but that didn’t mean he was out of practice. So long as there were no complications, he could probably get free. MI6 had taught him many things, almost all of them the hard way and one of his first lessons was to not wait for a rescue that wouldn’t come. Alex Rider was no damsel in distress and Yassen Gregorovich, corpse, would not be his knight in shining armor. 

Mikhailov had seemed pretty dead set that Yassen was alive. He hadn’t said he’d seen him personally but Mikhailov was not someone to waste time for a ‘hope’. Which meant Yassen was someone alive. How the  _ hell _ had he survived? Alex had watched him  _ die.  _ He had taken a bullet to the chest, bled out and it hadn’t been fake. 

Alex had done the same and lived except it was 25 feet from the doors to an intelligence agency with medical personnel on standby. That was ignoring the  _ coincidence _ involved in a  _ sniper _ getting that close to the Royal and General, not getting caught, not killing Alex, and landing him conveniently in a hospital near Paul Drevin. He’d had over a year to think about how neatly that situation had been tied up. His leading theory was that he’d been darted with a paralyzing agent and shot with something damaging but not deadly that could mimic the effects of a gunshot wound. Would explain his quick recovery time and with someone like Smithers on staff Alex didn’t underestimate their ability to create something like that. Their competency in other areas….he pulled at the tape and was rewarded with a tearing sound….left a lot to be desired. 

He supposed it was the CIAs fault that he had been snatched off the streets. His too. But his therapist encouraged him to not lay blame so he would do what he normally did and selectively take her advice. Mostly because he was sure that him being caught and needing to be rescued would be a convenient favor owed for Byrne. So long as he lived and Byrne apparently had a lot of faith in that. Not that it was  _ misplaced _ , he tugged again, wincing as it pulled at his arm hair.  _ Fuck _ he hadn’t missed this. 

Life hadn’t exactly been  _ good _ at the Pleasures but the whole ‘not being afraid of dying at any given moment’ thing had definitely been a perk. Being coddled and forced into therapy and watched like a particularly vicious attack dog ready to snap at any moment...yeah that had been less fun. Staying active had helped. The Pleasures hadn’t been thrilled at him throwing himself into morning runs and daily trips to the dojo and football (the proper one) and swimming and literally anything else he could get to keep his hands and mind busy but it was better than the 2 months he had spent basically locked in his room so they had allowed it in the name of progress. That was how he had met the agents sent to watch him too. They did a shite job at hiding but were fairly helpful at showing him other things when they joined him on his runs. They probably reported it all back to Byrne but his other choice was listening to them prattle about American football and he just  _ couldn’t even  _ with that shit. 

And now here was unfortunately putting all of those hard earned skills to good use probably with Byrne’s blessing and a mission file with his name on it sitting on his desk. Bloody brilliant. He fucking hated Americans. Yassen too if he was alive, he could share the hate with him. Bastard. He ripped the last piece of tape off at that and hurriedly peeled the last bits off his wrists before moving onto his ankles. 

Competent enough to double tap but not enough to properly secure his hands? Amateur hour. Mikhailov  _ did know  _ he was a spy right? He shouldn’t be offended about the slight given it was why he would be out of here in a few minutes, wherever here was. That was another problem for another time when he wasn’t stuck in a freezer. No windows, he was probably too broad in the shoulders for the vents now but filed it away for later assuming there was something blocking the door. He hadn’t been impressed so far. He doubted he would be. A press at the emergency lock at the top of the door had it opening, he hesitantly peered into the empty hallway. 

No guard either. 

This was bullshit. He supposed they all were waiting on Yassen then? Alex could concede that the man was technically the bigger threat but that didn’t mean Alex wasn’t one. He slipped silently through the building, an elbow to the temple had knocked out the first guard he had seen. The second had earned the stock of the first’s machine gun to the face. That was about as exciting as things got, though because he found himself face to face with a dead Russian. It took a second for Yassen to process that it was him but once he did, he slowly lowered his pistol.

“Alex.” He nodded stiffly

“Oh fuck off” he snapped, moving past him back into the compound proper. Yassen didn’t even hesitate, just fell neatly into step next to him. 

“Eloquent as ever.” He murmured under his breath and Alex chose to pointedly ignore it “I am surprised you don’t have any questions, it is not like you to hold your tongue.”

“We’re in the compound of the Russian mob, don’t really feel like now’s the time.”

“The situation has been handled.”

“Would have been nice if you had done that  _ before  _ they kidnapped me.”

“Had you not allowed yourself to be kidnapped we would not be in this situation.”

“I was  _ retired  _ and allegedly under guard from the CIA. Not my fault that Byrne decided to use this for a power play.” He rolled his eyes “What’d you do to piss them off anyways?”

“Refused a job offer. They unfortunately took that personally.”

“And I imagine this” he gestured to the carnage of the room in front of them “Won’t be taken personally.” 

Yassen shrugged “Not if they know what’s good for them.”

Good enough for Yassen, not good enough for Alex “Criminals are stupid and if they came for me once to get at you they’ll come for me again.”

“Oh, I very much doubt they’ll have the opportunity, not with your masters sending you on assignment again.”

“I’m  _ retired _ .” He snapped as they pushed through a final set of doors into a blast of cold air. He did his best not to shiver; he was still dressed for San Francisco at  _ best _ , not for  _ this,  _ his missing shoes were not helping either. 

“Can you handle yourself from here?” Yassen asked moving towards a mercedes parked to the side of the building.

“Depends, where is ‘here’?”

“Moscow” Yassen remarked, arching an eyebrow at the string of swears that Alex bit out. He had been transported over  _ international borders  _ without the CIA knowing. Oh bullshit. What little doubt he had of Byrne’s involvement was gone. 

“Then no. I was captured for  _ you _ ,  _ you _ can get me out.”

“As you wish.” He said simply. Too simple. Yassen Gregorovich didn’t do things for free. What was his angle? Had he had a part in this, staged it himself? They had stepped over enough bodies that he wanted to say no but Yassen might view those as a necessary part of convincing Alex. He didn’t trust the man anymore now than he had on the plane. Yassen wanted something and Alex did  _ not _ have the patience for that.

“No. Whatever you want, no.” He snapped

“Who says I want anything?” 

“Me. I do. You people always want something. My answer is no. I’m retired. Haven't been in the field for a year now so I’m rusty so you can fuck  _ right _ off with whatever you want from me.”

“Do you expect me to believe that, Alex? You just escaped from the Russian mob. I think your skills are quite up to par. The CIA would make sure of that, you think your dojo  _ happened _ to be staffed by a new master or that your watchers took enough interest in you to teach you because you were  _ bored _ ? If you think that then I give you too much credit.”

“If I say you’re right and I totally believed all of that, does that mean I can go home?” He asked hopefully

“You are free to go, of course. I have never been one for taking prisoners. However, I should warn you that Moscow is not a friendly city to westerners who don’t speak the language. You will have to find your way to an embassy, and when they open their doors and find a still sharp Alex Rider who needs a favor...” Yassen shrugged “who knows where you will be sent. I can promise it will not be to San Francisco.” 

“And you’re a better choice?” 

“That’s not my decision to make, Alex. I have a ride, a jacket for you since you won’t last a half an hour in  _ that _ , and an offer that I think you’ll find....intriguing.” 

Didn’t sound like much of a choice to Alex but he hadn’t really had one since he was 14, why bother starting now?

“Who’s to say I won’t ditch you the moment we get near civilization?”

“I doubt even MI6 managed to crush your natural curiosity and besides…...you owe me” 

“I do not.” He snapped, he didn’t owe anybody a damn thing. He’d stopped Sarov from nuking Europe and Cray from nuking everywhere else combined those should shave off every favor he might owe.

“I am helping you escape from the Russian mob.”

“That caught me  _ because of you. _ ”

“I took a bullet for you.”

“That was your call, and frankly you could have handled it better and avoided being shot if you had killed Cray in the first place or, better yet, never worked for him because he was obviously  _ insane _ .” Alex had yet to forget that little tea party and the singing….

“Hindsight is 20/20, little Alex but the fact is that I spared you once and then saved you a second time. You. Owe. Me.”

“You only did that for my father.” 

“No, that was London. Cray was for you.”

“Well it cancelled out when you sent me to my death with SCORPIA.”

“That was  _ your _ choice, now get in the car, Alex we both know you are coming and I think we would both prefer it without dealing with the effects of hypothermia.”

“Fine.” He snarled and walked around the car, doing his best to avoid the worst of the gravel and who knows what else that was cutting into his bare feet. He snatched the jacket from the backseat and pulled it on as Yassen buckled in, ignoring the satisfied air that came from the assassin. Bloody infuriating. He should have taken his chances in Moscow. 

“Buckle up, Alex.” 

He idly considered refusing but instead sullenly pulled it across his lap. As much as he  _ really _ didn’t want to go back in the field he knew Yassen was right - the intelligence agencies would pounce the  _ moment _ he asked for the favor of getting him back home given the fact that the CIA  _ let _ this happen for that very reason. It was bullshit but then everything always was. Yassen was also right that Alex was curious about just what could  _ possibly _ require Alex’s help when Yassen should have been on some beach drinking a pina colada and not killing his way through the Russian mob to ‘save’ him. 

“Why didn’t you retire, anyways?” 

“I did for a year, I found myself…..unstimulated.” 

“So...you got bored?” The idea of Yassen Gregorovich being bored entertained him more than he would ever admit. 

Yassen shot a glare at him that he happily ignored.

“This is some kind of midlife crisis then? Empty nest syndrome or maybe empty shell syndrome?” 

It was a terrible joke, the side eyed look he received made it worth it 

“Has anyone told you you’re not funny?” 

“Loads.” Alex responded flippantly “They’re all dead. Should have saved me the trouble and stayed that way.”

Yassen shot him an unimpressed look, he just smiled back.“I should warn you that all my partners have ended up dead or shot, except one, I think.” 

“I have already taken a bullet for you, that should cancel it out.” So Yassen had actually been shot. Made him feel less crazy for thinking he was bleeding out. He could tell Yassen wanted him to ask more to press, to find out what happened. Alex was undeniably curious but he was  _ not _ giving Yassen the satisfaction. Instead he eyed the water bottle in the cup holder. He forgot how much being captive dehydrated you. 

“It’s for you” Alex hesitated “It’s not poisoned, drink you’ll need it.” Alex didn’t fight it, sipping it slowly. At least the ride was nice. He’d certainly been in worse kidnappings. It took a while to finish but once he set the bottle back Yassen surprisingly broke the silence.

“Shouldn’t you be asking where I’m taking you?”

“Figured you’d start monologuing about it like every other psychopath who kidnaps me”

Yassen shot him a side glance “Does that happen often?” 

“Used to, until I retired and got left alone and then  _ somebody _ had to go and fuck it up.” 

“It’s a miracle you haven’t been killed yet.” Yassen murmured

“I know, but I suppose that luck of ‘staying alive’ is what has you dragging me along on this little road trip.” 

“Your skills don’t hurt either. But your luck is a plus.”

“Speaking of, what could you possibly need me for that you can’t do on your own?”

“Quite a bit actually, you’d be surprised.”

“Old age must be a bitch.” Alex hummed in agreement and got another glare “So let’s hear it, what danger are you throwing me into?”

“No.”

“What? Why not? Is it a surprise?”

“No, you won’t be able to hear it all because you’ll be asleep in about 3 minutes.”

It took Alex a second to process that and then his eyes trailed to the water bottle

“You said it wasn’t poisoned!’

“It’s not, it’s drugged.”

“It was sealed!”

“I’m an assassin, Alex a water bottle is no match for me. For hapless ‘retired’ teenage spies….”

“Arse.” Alex snarled but it lost its bite when it was swallowed by a yawn. Yassen smirked “There is a blanket in the back, may as well get comfortable, we have quite the trip ahead of us.”

“I’m sure we do.” He murmured bitterly as he reached back for the blanket “Fucking Russians”

Yassen smirked but didn’t say anything, at least he had the courtesy to give Alex the last word before he drifted to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As promised to Mobi for Flufftember - Alex gets captured for Yassen and has no chill. Get it before it gets deleted per Valak/Mobi tradition XD


End file.
